


Shadows

by broodywolf



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 22:25:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6258148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broodywolf/pseuds/broodywolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zevran watches his Warden from the Shadows, and wishes for a happy ending he cannot have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadows

There are no happy endings for Crows.

He knows this. He has always known this, from the day he was purchased for a few sovereigns from a brothel in Rialto.

He’d been a fool to ever think it could be otherwise. There was no leaving the Crows. Once you are a Crow, you do as you are told, or you die. He has not done as he was told. It is as simple as that.

He wishes it were so simple. His life has been anything but simple from the day she stood over him and chose to spare his life. None of this was meant to happen this way. She was supposed to have killed him. He deserved no less. Instead she not only spared him, but welcomed him as a comrade in arms, broke bread with him, _trusted_ him to watch her back.

He perches on the roof of the building across from the inn where she’s taken a room for the night. The soft, flickering candlelight bathes her body in a warm glow; she is wearing a soft tunic that leaves her legs bare. His heart aches at the sight.

It had seemed simple enough, deciding to invite her to his tent. She was beautiful, she had expressed interest… why should they not take pleasure in each other? He knows now that whatever they had between them had _never_ been simple. It was… it was vast, unfathomable, inexorable, leaving him nothing but confused from that first time she’d come to his tent. 

He should have known it could never last. The Crows were always going to find him. Lyna turns towards the window, and he can see the shape of the bandages around her middle through the sheer tunic she wears. A wound that was meant for him. He should never have let it go this far.

She walks up to the window, rests her hands on the sill. The moonlight makes a striking contrast between the dark lines of her vallaslin and the pale expanse of her skin. She is beautiful, ethereal, a shining goddess who should never have been involved with the likes of him. All he will bring to her is death if he stays, but he does not know how to leave her.

Her eyes dart up suddenly, brow furrowing as she scans the rooftops. He wants so badly to let her see him, to allow her to make chase, give him a reason to stay, any reason.

He steps backwards into the shadows where he belongs.


End file.
